


and so the comedown plays

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Fix-It, Hair Washing, M/M, Multi, Touch-Starved, post-season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: It’s been a year (or five, depending on who you ask), but you don’t leave your friends out in the cold.





	and so the comedown plays

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Maddie, for betaing, additions, and generally being a delight in my life.

It took them a long time to find Grand, much longer than Even would have liked. But they never stopped. That’s what you do when you’re part of the Fleet -- you keep looking, you keep trying, no matter what.

 

There’d been minimal clues. As far as they could tell, Grand had returned to the Fleet, began his passage back to Memorious, and then disappeared, his name appearing in the logs of small transport vessels and trading posts but leaving no trace of himself behind.

 

The only solid proof they’d found of him had come a week previously, the remains of the piece of Independence's body he’d taken, smashed against the side of a cargo freighter they think he’d stowed away on. They’d collected the glass fragments carefully, sealing the awful reflections away. The captain of the freighter had thought it had happened recently, on their way over to Sky Reflected In Mirrors, but they couldn’t be sure -- time was so odd these days.

 

It’s that that ends up leading them to Grand, holed up in one of the darkened rooms of Sky Reflected In Mirrors. He looks… about as terrible as Even was expecting him to look, although it’s still startling to see Grand’s normally smooth face hidden by an unkempt beard, his clothes ragged and stained.

 

He won’t look at any of them.

 

Grand’s shoulder tremble as he twists away from them from where he’s hunched in his chair. “Leave me alone.”

 

His voice cracks. Even recognises the roughness of it, a voice unused. He’s sounded like that often enough, returning from long journeys alone.

 

Gig that steps forward first, not hesitating even as Grand’s face twists into a scowl.

 

He puts a hand on the arm of Grand’s chair. “Hey. We missed you buddy.”

 

Grand snorts. “Right.”

 

Gig frowns, looking genuinely hurt. Even presses his lips together. Of the three of them, Gig is the one who’s been the  _ most _ sure they’ll find Grand, the  _ most  _ sure that Grand  _ wanted _ to be found. Even and Echo had been expecting Grand like this -- Gig had not.

 

Gig crouches, bending his lanky frame so he and Grand are at eye level. “We  _ did _ .”

 

Grand bites his lip, ducking his face so Even can’t see his expression. Gig reaches out a hand, very slowly, like Even has seen Gig do with Duck when Duck gets spooked, and touches Grand’s arm.

 

Grand reacts like he’s been electrified, jerking back and very nearly hitting Gig in the face (out of the corner of his eye, Even sees Echo put their hand on their sword). Grand grips the arms of the chair, his face white.

 

“Don’t,” says Grand.

 

Gig draws back, his fingers curling as he draws his hand away. “Okay buddy--”

 

“We’re  _ not  _ buddies,” says Grand.

 

Gig frowns again at that, looking away from Grand for the first time since they entered. Grand opens his mouth as if to say something else and then closes it again. He swallows.

 

“I’m no one’s buddy,” says Grand, “I’m-- I-- It was my fault, what happened. You don’t get to have  _ buddies _ after you do something like that.”

 

“I went to jail and you still wanted to know me,” says Echo.

 

“Well that’s different,” says Grand, sounding a bit more like his old self, “You did your time, and now, I guess, I have to do mine.”

 

It takes Even a moment to understand Grand’s meaning. “We’re not here to arrest you.”

 

Grand looks up sharply, eyes widening and then narrowing in suspicion. “Then why--”

 

“Because you’re our  _ friend _ ,” says Gig, “and when your  _ friend  _ goes missing, you  _ go looking for them _ .”

 

Grand looks disbelieving. “Right. I guess I’m not  _ so _ much of a friend that looking for me took priority.”

 

“You are  _ surprisingly _ good at hiding your tracks. Had every contact I knew looking for you, too” says Echo, “and it’s been a busy year since we left Quire.”

 

Grand freezes. “Year…?”

 

They pause. “Grand, how long has it been since we last saw each other?”

 

Grand swallows. “Five years.”

 

“Oh,” says Gig, “oh,  _ Grand _ .”

 

This time, when Gig reaches out for Grand, Grand’s face crumples. He lets Gig pull him into a hug, his face pressed against Gig’s chest. Grand’s arms come up to clumsily wrap around Gig’s sides, clutching at his brightly patched jacket. Gig makes soft, soothing sounds, resting his cheek on top of Grand’s head.

 

“We never stopped looking for you,” says Gig, “I swear we didn’t.”

 

Grand says nothing, but his grip tightens where it’s twisted in Gig’s jacket.

 

Even lets out a long breath.  _ Five years _ . No wonder Grand looked so wrecked. Five years was a long time to be alone with the worst thing you ever did.

 

“What  _ are _ we going to do with him?” murmurs Echo.

 

Even looks over at Grand. They’d had a plan, of course, but those had all been based on Grand experiencing time the same as they had. Five years was a lot of extra time, with a lot of extra variables to take into account.

 

“We’ll take him to Gumption’s Gambit,” says Gig, with certainty.

 

Echo looks at Even. Even shrugs. It’s as good a place as any.

 

“Come on, buddy,” says Gig gently. “Time to go.”

 

Grand blinks up at Gig, following his motions as Gig stands up. Now that he’s not so hunched in on himself, Even can see the was his clothes hang off him. He feels a stab of worry in his gut.

 

Echo steps forward, wordlessly moving to suppport Grand’s other side as they head back to their ship. Even leads the way, holding the lantern high to spot any hazards in their path. They don’t see anyone on their way back. It’s just as well -- Even’s not sure what he’d tell them.

 

Grand’s very quiet during their trip back. He doesn’t let go of Echo’s hand for the whole flight, his other hand gripping the armrest with white knuckles. Gig glances back at them both occasionally as he helps guide their ship towards Gumptions’s Gambit. Even grips the steering, checking on the two of them in the reflection of the screen.

 

Gig grins as the ship comes into view, busily adjusting dials and calling their position in. Even casts an eye over the Gumption’s Gambit -- he’s often wondered how such an odd collection of parts manages to stay together in space at all. Gig points to a small hollow to their right, which is apparently a docking bay (not that Even would have guessed from the outside).

 

Gig chatters to someone on the radio as they pull into the dock. Even listens with half an ear, but it’s mostly small talk -- Gig asking after their family, how their day’s been, his voice bright and curious. It’s soothing in a way, a cheerful sound in the otherwise silent cockpit.

 

Even lets Gig lead the way out of the ship. It’s slow going -- it seems like every person that spots them wants to stop and chat to Gig about nothing in particular, and Gig seems perfectly happy to let them.

 

Everybody who stops them glances at Echo, Grand, and Even curiously.

 

“Oh, you remember Echo, Even, and Grand, from my streams?” says Gig, “They’re visiting for a bit.”

 

It’s a strange feeling to be introduced that way. Stranger still is people’s reactions, which is universally delight.

 

“So good to see you!”, as though the citizens of Gumption’s Gambit were their long-lost friends.

 

Or

 

“Oh, that’s nice of you” which is doubly strange, given how heavily Grand is leaning against Echo’s shoulder.

 

Or, sometimes, the person asking after them blushes and turns quickly back to Gig, and Gig will laugh good-naturedly and quickly change the subject.

 

Eventually they get out of the main area, into the smaller, more winding corridors of the residential areas. People lean out of half-open windows to wave at them and Gig calls out a greeting back.

 

“Do you know the name of every single person on the ship?” asks Even, curious.

 

Gig shrugs. “Well they all know mine. Seems kind of rude to not return the favour.”

 

Gig’s apartment is long and thin, single rooms slotted in-between it’s neighbours like an afterthought. The walls of the rooms have splashes of different colours in-between unfinished metal panels, and the furniture looks like it’s seen better days (and not just as furniture -- Even’s pretty sure the small table in the corner used to be the hull of a ship). Gig leads them up a thin staircase to the next floor, which turns out to be a bathroom, every bit as pathwork as the room downstairs.

 

Grand still hasn’t let go of Echo’s hand. When Echo catches Even looking, they shrug.

 

“I thought, um, I thought you’d probably want a bath?” says Gig, a slight quiver to his voice, “I know it helps, sometimes, when you don’t feel great?”

 

“What bath?” says Grand.

 

Gig brightens. “Oh! Here.”

 

He pushes at one of the tiles and there’s a click, and a handle drops down. Gig slides the bath out from the wall, the tap popping out last.

 

“I usually keep it packed in because it, um, kind of takes up a lot of space,” says Gig.

 

He’s not wrong. The bathroom’s not large, and now that the bath is pulled out they’re all standing crowded in the doorway. Gig leans over to bath, balanced precariously on one leg, to reach the taps. The pipes make a groaning sound before the water pours into the tub, steam beginning to fill the room.

 

“Right,” says Gig, looking over at Grand, “Uh. So.”

 

Echo tugs on their’s and Grand’s joined hands to get Grand’s attention. “Hey. You’re going to have a bath now. Can you do that by yourself or do you want us to stay?”

 

“I um,” Grand’s voice is hoarse. He swallows. “Could you stay? Please?”

 

Echo’s gaze flicks to Gig and Even and then back to Grand. “Sure.”

 

The four of them stand together for a moment, the sound of running water the only thing breaking the silence.

 

Even takes a deep breath in. “Right. Gig, do you have clean clothes Grand could borrow?”

 

“What?” says Gig, “Oh, right! Maybe! I’ll get some!”

 

He rushes out of the room. Even tries to keep his momentum, keeping in mind the cadence of his old squad commander and the steady way she’d hand out orders to their group.

 

“I’m going to check on the water temperature,” continues Even, “Echo, can you help Grand get undressed?”

 

Echo nods and turns to Grand, business-like. Even turns towards the tub, trying to give Grand the illusion of privacy. It has been a long time since they were all together on Quire, after all, and even longer for Grand. 

 

“How’s the water?” says Echo, after a few minutes.

 

“Fine,” says Even, reaching to turn off the taps, “ready when you are.”

 

Echo coaxes Grand forward slowly, helping him step over the ledge of the tub. They keep ahold of Grand’s hand even as he sits down, squeezing it once as Grand lowers himself further into the hot water.

 

There’s a tentative knock at the door, and Gig pokes his head in. “Everything okay?”

 

Even nods, motioning Gig forward.

 

Gig gestures to the bottles in his arms. “I know when I don’t feel great, having someone wash my hair makes me feel better, so I thought, um, maybe?”

 

They look towards Grand. He swallows, shifting under their gaze.

 

“Okay,” says Grand.

 

Gig gives him a small smile. “Okay.”

 

Gig wriggles out of his jacket, leaving him in his worn-thin faded green t-shirt. He gets a small jug from a cupboard set high in the wall, setting it down next to him as he kneels behind Grand. He pours a few jugfuls of water over Grand’s hair, careful to shield Grand’s eyes, before he tips a large amount of bright purple goo onto his hand. Grand keeps his eyes closed, his head tipped back towards Gig and he begins to massage it into Grand’s hair, suds quickly beginning to form when his gaze flicks to Even.

 

“Oh, wait, uh--” He hands a small can of shaving foam to Even. “I thought you might want to shave too, so I um. If you want?”

 

“Okay,” says Grand, his eyes still closed.

 

“There’s scissors up there,” says Gig, gesturing to the cupboard and flicking a line of soapy shampoo onto the mismatched tiles.

 

There’s a razor too, new looking and clean, and Even takes that too. He copies Gig, leaving his jacket in a pile with Gig’s and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. It takes a while for him to trim to beard low enough to even be able to use the razor. After, he cups water in his hand and carefully washes along Grand’s neck. Grand sighs.

 

“Stay still,” says Echo.

 

Grand hums in agreement, his eyes still closed.

 

Gig has done two rounds of conditioner by the time Even finishes. Grand still looks tired, the weight of his five years etched into his face, but he looks a great deal better than when they’d found him. Some of the tension has left his shoulders, and he almost smiles at Echo as Gig rinses the last of the conditioner from his hair.

 

There’s a film of dirt and grease clinging to the bath after they drain it. 

 

Gig just shrugs. “It’s seen worse. Man, I remember after this one stream…”

 

Gig talks as they dry Grand and help him into his borrowed clothes, telling them about a  _ disastrous _ stream he did following some workers down in the waste recycling stations of Gumption’s Gambit. Grand huffs a laugh at a few of the more ridiculous moments and Gig  _ beams. _

 

“So what now?” says Grand, in the pause after Gig’s story.

 

“Oh!” says Gig, “I don’t know, do you want something to eat?”

 

“I… no,” says Grand. He looks down at the floor. “I mean, what happens after this, what happens when the rest of the Fleet finds out I’m still, you know…”

 

Even, Gig, and Echo share a look over the top of Grand’s bowed head.

 

“We’ll figure that out together,” says Gig.

 

Grand looks back up at them all. Even can see the hand that’s not clutching Echo’s is shaking a little, where it’s peeking out of the too-long sleeve of his borrowed flannel shirt.

 

“But first,” continues Gig, “food and then a nap? Or a nap and then food?”

 

“I-- sleep first, I think,” says Grand, “I, uh. It’s been hard since-- for a while. Sleeping, I mean.”

 

Gig reaches out and touches the back of Grand’s hand where it’s intertwined with Echo’s. “Bedroom’s this way.”

 

He leads them back down the thin staircase and then up another. Gig’s bedroom isn’t much bigger than his bathroom, with the bed taking up most of the space and a crowd of screens and keyboards in one corner.

 

They guide Grand to sit down on the bed, and he looks up at the three of them, taking a shuddering breath.

 

“Can you… stay?” asks Grand. His voice is small, quiet. “Please?”

 

“Wasn’t even thinking otherwise, buddy” says Gig, toeing off his shoes.

 

Even and Echo copy him. Grand makes a small distressed noise as Echo lets go of his hand to get their jacket off, and Gig wraps his arms around Grand’s shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of Grand’s neck. Grand reaches up to run a hand through Gig’s hair.

 

Even’s chest feels tight at the sight of it, overlaying with memories of the two of them by the campfire, sleepy and warm but not quite ready to retire for the night.

 

They gently push Grand back, getting him under the covers before they slide in next to him. Gig’s bed is big, but it’s not really meant to accommodate this many people. Not that they mind, tangling together around Grand in the small space. They’d probably be pressed this close regardless of the size of the bed.

 

Gig nuzzles his face back into Grand’s neck the moment he lies down, wriggling to get comfortable on Grand’s side. Echo sighs, draping themselves half over Grand’s other side like a second blanket, their hand resting on Gig’s arm. Even smiles, settling himself down along Echo’s back, reaching across their side to put his hand on Grand’s chest over his heart.

 

Grand’s eyes are sliding closed. “You guys are going to be here when I wake up, right?”

 

Even’s hand flexes, curling into the material a little before he relaxes. He gives Grand a soft smile.

 

“We’ll be here. Get some rest, Grand. That’s an order,” says Even, quietly. 

 

Grand lets out a long sigh, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

Even stays awake as the other two drop into sleep after Grand, their bodies relaxing into each other. He stretches out his arm to cover all three of them, his hand curling protectively around Gig’s shoulder.

 

Things would be difficult, later, to sort out. But at least this part still felt easy enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins


End file.
